in celebration of valentine’s day, we headed downtown to watch the annual valentine’s day pillow fight. Toby had a cold, but seemed to be improving and we thought the air would do him good. During our muni ride, we vaguely regretted our plan as we surveyed the crowd of pillow carriers, most barely more than half our age, drinking secret stashes of alcohol, giggling. And we are very much opposed to giggling. As we approached the fight arena, the sky was a beautiful deep blue and hundreds of white feathers floated down on us. That’s about it, the fight was big, but not much of a spectacle. We ate at the ferry building, and had a long, congested train ride home. Toward the end, toby
was crying and a woman came to cheer him up. In the process she praised us for not beating him for crying in public. I’m not sure that’s something I need to pat myself on the back for, it’s kind of like complimenting us for having put clothes on him or for not juggling knives with him on our lap, but maybe my standards are too high.
1 comment:
Post a Comment